Mountie Python's Flying Circus

by Locomotion

Story 1: The Changeling Inquisition

World Comedy Day had always been something of a mixed bag for Shining Armour, and this year was no exception. As much as he appreciated a good joke, he couldn't shake a feeling as he returned from the morning's training exercise that the Crystal Guards had taken their humour a bit too far, especially after the row he had had with the drill sergeant. He entered the parlour to find Cadance indulging in some light reading; Flurry Heart had gone to visit her aunt Twilight for a week, giving the two of them some much-needed time off.

“Hello, Shining,” said Cadance, looking up from her book. “How was guard training?”

Shining Armour sighed heavily and shook his head. “Ludicrous,” he declared wearily. “You wouldn't believe the shambles I had to deal with this morning – the absolute cheek of that sergeant of mine! And I thought he was just as disciplined as all the others.”

Cadance looked puzzled. “What do you mean?”

“Well...”

Earlier that day, a company of guards were all stood on parade while Shining Armour inspected them, followed closely by his subordinate for the day, Colour Sergeant Stripes. To one side stood the Duke and Duchess of Maretonia with their newborn son, all of whom watched the display with interest.

“Well, Stripes,” announced Shining Armour smartly, “I can see these ponies are on top form today – properly dressed, not one scuff on their uniforms, spears nice and sharp...” He broke off as he heard a stifled giggle from the front rank. Quickly putting two and two together, he turned to the offending pony and snappily addressed him; “Get that innuendo out of your head, soldier! You're in the Royal Guard, not a stand-up comedy club!”

The pony saluted sheepishly. “Sorry, sir. I promise you, the subject of Biggus Prickus won't come up again.”

To Shining Armour's dismay, all the other soldiers suddenly collapsed into laughter themselves, causing the Duke and Duchess to exchange bewildered glances. Even Stripes couldn't help smirking in amusement, something he had been doing all morning for reasons the white unicorn stallion couldn't work out.

“Alright, that's enough!” barked Shining Armour at last. “All of you, pull yourselves together! And as for you, Private Silver Bullet,” he added sternly, “if I hear so much as one more snicker from you, I'm putting you on a charge. Do I make myself clear?”

“As crystal, sir!” The other soldiers only just managed to avoid laughing a second time at Silver Bullet's witty remark.

Shining Armour just rolled his eyes and turned to Stripes. “Right,” he ordered, “now let's see something decent and military – some precision drilling.”

“Sir!” Stripes saluted and turned to the soldiers. “Company – camp it – UP!”

Do what now? Shining Armour was taken aback for a moment – and then all became clear as the soldiers began to swagger and chant in a very camp manner. His eyes almost popped out in shock at what he was seeing, and when he looked towards the Duke and Duchess, he could see they were just as baffled. Barely halfway through the ridiculous routine, a spluttering chuckle from Stripes told him all he needed to know – it wasn't a drill at all, but an elaborate World Comedy Day prank. He shot the Pegasus sergeant an angry glare, which went completely unnoticed.

Only when the soldiers had finished their “drill” and were back to standing at ease did Shining Armour finally manage to put his hoof down. “Right, stop that!” he scolded. “It's silly – and more than a little offensive, I might add.”

“Ah, loosen up, Your Highness,” retorted Stripes. “They're just having a bit of fun.”

“Fun? In the Royal Guard?!” Shining Armour spun on him crossly. “You of all ponies know perfectly well that fun and games should never clash with discipline!”

“Oh, you're no fun anymore!” said Stripes huffily...

“We got into a heated debate after that,” finished Shining Armour back in the present, “and I tried making them march up and down the square to teach them a lesson; but Stripes ended up dismissing the whole company on a bunch of lame excuses about cinemas and books and spending the day at home with family and such.” He sat down with a groan. “I swear to Celestia, those ponies don't seem to have any sense of discipline at the moment.”

Cadance stifled a giggle of her own and nuzzled him reassuringly. “Cheer up, darling,” she soothed. “It's only once a year, after all; and to be fair, the Crystal Ponies' morale could do with a boost after what Sombra put them through.”

“I know,” sighed Shining Armour. “It's just...I really could've done without them embarrassing me in front of the gentry, World Comedy Day or not. And that dressing down I got from the Duke for my alleged 'inability' to keep them in order...I expected a few jokes, fair enough,” he moaned, “but not some sort of changeling inquisition.”

Before Cadance could even begin to wonder whether such an interrogation had ever taken place, the door suddenly flew open, and an ominous musical chord echoed out of nowhere as three changelings seemed to jump out at them. All three were red in colour with matching hats; one of them was a stovepipe hat that seemed to emit smoke from the top, while the tallest of the trio wore a sombrero with a wide brim. He and his sidekicks glowered upon the startled couple as he announced in an intimidating manner, “Nopony expects the Changeling Inquisition!”

Both Shining Armour and Cadance exchanged befuddled glances. They had no idea what these three were doing here, but they had to admit they weren't wrong.

Without letting them get a word in edgeways about what their business was, the tall one – evidently their leader, judging by the way he carried himself – continued his speech. “Our chief weapon is surprise – surprise and agility – agility and...no, wait, that's two weapons!” he rambled, stumbling over his words. “Our two weapons are surprise and agility and ruthless efficiency – no, three, our three weapons are agility, surprise and ruthless efficiency, and an almost inexhaustible mastery of disguise...four weapons...”

There was a very awkward pause as he rethought what he was going to say.

“Amongst our weaponry...” he began again, “...amongst our weaponry are such diverse elements as agility, s...I'll come in again,” and he hastily ushered the other two changelings out of the room, shutting the door behind them.

At last, Cadance found her voice. “What was all that about?” she quizzed.

“Beats me.” Shining Armour gazed back at the door, almost as if he expected the three changelings to come back any second. “I don't question for one moment how they managed to sneak past our guards, especially given how sloppy they were this morning; but why bother with an inquisition? I thought we'd patched things over with them.”

“Perhaps it's just their way of joining in on the World Comedy Day fun,” suggested Cadance thoughtfully.

“What, barging into a castle, rambling on about us not expecting the Changeling Inquisition?”

Once again, any further protest was cut off by the same chord, and the three changelings burst into the room as before. “Nopony expects the Changeling Inquisition!” their leader reiterated. “Amongst our weaponry are such elements as surprise, agility, ruthless efficiency, an almost inexhaustible mastery of disguise,” and then, as if a hasty afterthought, “and nice red carapaces – oh, drat!!”

“And would you care to explain what you're doing here, and by what right?” demanded Shining Armour.

But the lead changeling took no notice. Instead, he whispered something to the changeling in the stovepipe hat, and they hastily filed out of the room again.

Shining Armour let out an exasperated growl. “This is getting ridiculous!” he complained. “How many more times do we have to expect this Changeling Inquisition?!”

“Don't jinx it!” hissed Cadance; but it was too little too late. For the third time in a row, the changelings barged into the room to the sound of the ominous chord which, frankly, was beginning to grate. This time, the changeling in the stovepipe hat took centre stage – and his performance was even more confused!

“Uh...uh, nopony, um...an...uh...”

“Expects,” hissed the leader under his breath.

“Expects, yes – nopony expects the, um...the Changeling...um...”

“Inquisition.”

“I know, I know!” muttered the one in the stovepipe hat, and turned his attention back to the baffled couple. “Nopony expects the Changeling Inquisition; in fact those who do...”

“Our chief weapons are...!”

“Our chief weapons are...um...uh...”

“Surprise.”

“Surprise...”

“Alright, alright, that'll do!” interrupted the leader sharply, and sprang back to the front of the group. “Our chief weapon is surprise – blah, blah, blah, blah, blah. Cardinal Syn,” he ordered, “read the charge!”

The third changeling, who had remained silent up to this point, unrolled the scroll he had tucked under his fedora and took centre stage as he began to read. “Princess Cadance, supreme, exalted sovereign of the Crystal Empire – you are hereby charged with inattention to your husband, and failure to show your love to one another.”

“And you three face a trespassing charge if you don't explain yourselves,” Shining Armour threatened; but once again, his words went unheeded as Cardinal Syn began to mutter under his breath, only to be silenced by his leader. He stepped up to Cadance, trying to suppress the smirk on his lips.

“Now – how do you plead?”

If Cadance was confused before, she was now absolutely baffled. “Inattention to...you do realise you're talking to the Princess of Love, don't you?” she asked incredulously. “I've been nothing but faithful to Shiny since before we were married; if anyone's innocent of those so-called 'charges' of yours, it's me.”

Her defence was met with a poor attempt at Diabolical Laughter by the three changelings. The leader waved his hooves at her in what they could only describe as Diabolical Acting; “We'll soon change your mind about THAT – with surprise, agility and ruthless...ooh!!” He turned to the inquisitor in the stovepipe hat. “Cardinal Puff Puff Puff, fetch...THE RACK!!”

Both ponies goggled in alarm. “Now look here,” burst out Shining Armour, “this has gone far...what the...?!” The immense fear they felt suddenly vanished as the stovepipe hatted changeling pulled the “rack” into the room. It wasn't the torture rack they had expected, but a massage table! Cadance was right, they realised – this “inquisition” was nothing more than a World Comedy Day prank, a free spa treatment under the guise of poorly planned terrorism.

Already, the leader could see that they were beginning to catch on, and struggled to stifle a groan as he shook his head in dismay. “Right,” he ordered lamely, “tie her down.”

The other two changelings took Cadance's front hooves and yanked her forcibly over to the “rack”, forcing her down prone as they tied her onto it – with streamers! Not a particularly effective form of restraint, the pink alicorn thought with a barely suppressed smirk, but these three characters seemed to think it adequate, so she decided to play along.

“Right,” the leader spoke up again, “how do you plead?”

“Innocent,” repeated Cadance in a defiant tone.

“Ha! Right!” The leader turned back to Cardinal Puff Puff Puff. “Cardinal – give the rack...oh dear,” he interrupted himself as a sudden realisation hit him, forcing him to fight back a cringe of dismay. “Give the rack...a turn.”

Puff Puff Puff checked the “rack” over for a handle, but couldn't find one. “But I...” he began awkwardly.

“I know, I know you can't,” muttered his leader, gritting his fangs with embarrassment, “I didn't want to say anything – I just wanted to try and ignore our oversight from when we bought this dratted thing in the first place. It makes us all look so stupid!”

“Shall I, er...”

“Oh, grief, just pretend, for crying out loud!” burst out the leader, his frustration getting the better of him.

Only then did Puff Puff Puff notice a pedal at the base of the massage table, and began to realise how it worked. Quickly resuming his charade, he gave another Diabolical Laugh – and began waving one front hoof round in circles as if cranking an imaginary handle, his other hoof pumping rhythmically against the pedal and elevating the table. Cadance struggled half-heartedly against her bonds, trying to maintain the illusion of helplessness.

Within a few seconds, the table was at a more suitable height for a masseur to work on the “victim” more comfortably. By then, the leader was sufficiently recovered to resume his intimidating stance; “Alright, princess,” he growled, “this is your last chance. How do you plead?”

“On my knees, if it weren't for these restraints,” replied Cadance smartly, “but I assure you, I'm still innocent.”

“FINE! IF THAT'S THE WAY YOU WANT IT...!” The leader turned on Shining Armour, who was now so amused that he could hardly keep a straight face. “You!” he barked. “Since you too refuse to confess, you will carry out the torture yourself! Now – you will stand over your princess and smooth out any and all knots in her muscles for the next hour!”

“And if I don't, you fiends...?” asked Shining Armour with a smirk.

“Then we shall strike you down – with the Big Pink Tickling Feather!” No sooner had the leader uttered the last word than the dramatic chord rang out for what Cadance and Shining Armour hoped would be the last time. As if to punctuate it, Syn pulled out a huge pink feather, seemingly from nowhere, and hovered it over to the white stallion who shrank back in mild but genuine fear. The last thing he wanted was for anyone, even a bunch of crazy changelings, to find out how ticklish he was.

“Alright,” he said hastily, “I'll do it.” Without another word, he stood over his wife and gently began running his hooves down her back, earning a moan of bliss from the pink alicorn. This more than satisfied the inquisitors, and after only fifteen minutes of massaging, they quietly slipped away – but not without leaving a note behind with the simple, ominous message:

Remember; nopony expects the Changeling Inquisition!

Of course, Cadance and Shining Armour weren't to be the only victims, but that's another story. And now for something completely different...